


a storm rolled in, overwhelmed me

by OnceAndFloral



Category: The Mechanisms (Band)
Genre: Disassociation, I've been in a really weird mood recently, Implied Sexual Content, Multi, Stream of Consciousness, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, it's so incredibly non-graphic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-04
Updated: 2020-04-04
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:35:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23481067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OnceAndFloral/pseuds/OnceAndFloral
Summary: It feels weird to smile right now, which kind of sucked because Lyfrassir is at somebody’s stupid party so they had to smile a lot right now. They don’t really want to be here, but also if they leave what else will they do? Sit at home in their shitty, tiny apartment staring at the wall and falling apart at the seams because their dumb brain is saying shit likeyou’re not real, you’re not a person, not a person, fucking imposterand Lyfrassir can’t come up with any arguments against it? No thank you.
Relationships: Ivy Alexandria/Raphaella la Cognizi/Lyfrassir Edda/Marius von Raum, Lyfrassir Edda/Marius von Raum, Raphaella la Cognizi/Lyfrassir Edda, lyf/original character but it's not the point of the fic
Comments: 6
Kudos: 62





	a storm rolled in, overwhelmed me

It feels weird to smile right now, which kind of sucked because Lyfrassir is at somebody’s stupid party so they had to smile a lot right now. Someone says something with the cadence of a joke, and Lyfrassir expends the energy needed to huff in a way that sounded like laughter. It’s a dance they’re doing right now. They don’t really want to be here, but also if they leave what else will they do? Sit at home in their shitty, tiny apartment staring at the wall and falling apart at the seams because their dumb brain is saying shit like _you’re not real, you’re not a person, not a person, fucking imposter_ and Lyfrassir can’t come up with any arguments against it? No thank you. 

A woman sits down next to Lyfrassir on the sofa they’ve been sinking into the whole time. She laughs at the next joke someone says, and Lyfrassir thinks her voice sounds nice. Someone must be smoking something, because even though Lyfrassir can’t smell anything, the air has a thin layer of haze to it, and they doubt that there’s a fog machine stashed somewhere in this house. It seems a bit overkill, even for… huh. Lyfrassir forgot the host’s name. Weird. 

The woman next to them taps their shoulder. They look over, but it takes a second to fully focus on her.

“Are you okay?” She asks.

When Lyfrassir laughs this time, it's effortless. “I don't know.”

She smiles sympathetically. “I get that. I’m Thyra.”

“Lyfrassir.”

There’s decorative glitter stuck to her skin, and in the low light it makes her almost glow. She’s like if one of the galactic strips of light in the night sky decided to visit the surface. Despite not having any alcohol, Lyfrassir feels very lightheaded and fuzzy.

Over the course of an hour, Lyfrassir and Thyra get closer and closer to each other until their legs are draped over her lap and their head is rested at the crook of her neck. Every now and then Thyra would ask them a question, just often enough to keep them in the loop, but mostly she just stayed close. Lyfrassir was thankful for it. It’s the best time they’ve had all night, to be honest, just sitting here.

“Why’d you come tonight?” She whispers when the room they’re in is almost empty as everyone else filters out to do something else.

“I thought it would help me get out of my head,” Lyfrassir admits. 

“Did it work?”

Lyfrassir frowns, lifting their head off her shoulder. “I, um… Is it okay if I just‒?” They quickly catch her lips in a kiss. It’s short and chaste, and when they pull back she’s smiling softly down at them.

“Is that your answer?”

“Is it okay if it is?”

Her laughter rings like a bunch of little bells. Thyra’s hands catch either side of Lyfrassir’s face and she brings them to her face again. The next kiss is slow and sanguine, but it’s no longer all that chaste as their lips part. Lyfrassir doesn’t recall exactly what they did to end up on her lap, but they’re there now. It’s funny, all they can really think about besides the heat of Thyra’s mouth is how they’re so short they hardly have to lean down.

“Want to go somewhere more private?” She breaths when they take a break for air. Lyfrassir merely nods in response.

She takes their hand and leads them down a series of halls. It’s like a maze, and Lyfrassir gets lost in it. They don’t think they’ll be able to find their way out again without guidance, but that worry is quickly dispelled to the back of their mind as Thyra pulls them into a bedroom and shuts the door behind them. She presses her lips to the hinge of their jaw. 

“How’s that head of yours doing?”

“It’s definitely somewhere.”

She laughs again, and it echoes pink and yellow against the walls, against Lyfrassir’s skin. The backs of their legs hit the bed. They hadn’t even realized that she had been backing them up. Thyra takes her time on the buttons of their shirt, like each one is a special moment of intimacy she wants to savor. Their shaking fingers intertwine with hers. They haven't done anything like this in so long and it all feels off kilter. Not… Not in a bad way, just that it's been moved just enough to the left that Lyfrassir notices the difference.

Her lips meet theirs once more as she lowers them down to the bed. They all but tip backwards, head landing in a mess of blankets and pillows. She chuckles, smiling against their skin. It feels nice.

“You're so tense,” she mumbles, hooking her thumbs on the waistband of their trousers and pulling them down.

Lyfrassir feels very strange when she dips her head between their legs. Everything feels quite distant, like they're only connected to their body by a single, thin thread. They stare at the ceiling as her tongue lands on them, but it's not just a painted sheet anymore, it's an entire night sky. Everything touching their bare skin feels like it's doing so through a sheet of cellophane, their own shaky breaths and soft whines have an underwater-like quality, like Lyfrassir's head has been dunked under.

They twitch as a dull spark shoots through their body. Lyfrassir thinks their hips buck up at it, but it's hard to tell because everything is so numb and even that tiny burst of pleasure barely registers. They can see stars dying and being born again. It's almost beautiful enough to bring a tear to their eyes, but they just watch in mute wonder. Colors shift and mutate, not too unlike the Bifrost Lyfrassir could see from their office window. 

Something about that thought causes something to tear just a little. Their heart aches in the way that someone has buried a blade into it, dull, but it’s there. They might have shed a year, but they don’t know for sure. Blue and red bleed into each other, but they don’t become purple, and it drips into Lyfrassir’s eyes. It burns, but they can’t close them. They have to keep staring, because the colors are in pain and so is Lyfrassir. Their agony is shared, insignificant yet all encompassing.

Claws tear through the cellophane, drag along Lyfrassir's back, and they shudder and arch their spine at the sensation. The feeling of the bed beneath them is totally gone now. They're floating. There is nothing but the infinite space around them, and really there’s no Lyfrassir either. They don’t know what they are beyond a barely-feeling bundle of nerves. 

There are pins and needles along their surface, like they are a vessel for radio static and magenta. There’s no longer any need for oxygen, no need for the beating heart they might have had before. There is only the song, flowing through them instead of blood. This was meant to be.

Lyfrassir blinks. Something has changed. They don’t know what, only that it is. 

_“... Away from them! What… Doing?!”_

Bits and pieces. Lyfrassir only hears bits and pieces. They stare at the bright spots above them as it unfolds around him.

_“... Didn't notice! I thought they were… just a few minutes ago…”_

They want them to shut up. They’re being dragged back down, falling, and they feel… sad. Lyfrassir realizes this is the first _emotion_ they’ve felt since… since… They’re breathing again, and it makes their lungs hurt. 

“Hey,” Someone is repeatedly snapping their fingers right in front of Lyfrassir's to break them from their trance. “Snap out of it. Where's your drink? I need to figure out if someone drugged you.”

“I didn't…” Their throat is so dry they have to clear it before speaking again. “I didn't drink anything.”

“Well then what the fuck happened? I walked in here and you were completely despondent while that girl sucked you off.” The stranger’s face started appearing through the fog. He looked vaguely familiar, though Lyfrassir couldn't quite place where they knew his face from. It also seems like Thyra has disappeared.

“Is that bad?” It feels like it might be, especially judging from the way the stranger reacts to them asking. 

“Is that-!? _Yes,_ consent is incredibly important, you have to… People can't just…!”

“Marius,” says a voice by the door. “You're frightening them.”

Is he? It's very hard to feel anything right now, though not as hard as earlier. At the very least, they know they’re cold. They fumble around, and a bundle of fabric is handed to them. Right, their trousers. 

“I think you should go home,” “Marius” says as Lyfrassir struggles to get their pants back on.

“Sure.” They’re not capable of arguing with anyone at the moment. Any shock they had at their willingness to comply is quickly shot down as they attempt to stand, and almost crash down to the floor.

“Oh, shit! Raph, can you carry them?”

“Of course, they have the body mass index of a squirrel.” A set of arms wrap around them and the floor below disappears. She has wings, they realize. They enfold them like a cocoon, soft and protective with motes of light filtering in between the gaps in the feathers.

“Where’s your address?” Marius asks. Lyfrassir relays the information, registering that maybe they shouldn’t give their home address to two strangers, but their reasoning is if they die they die, fate is a cruel mistress but it’s their time. 

They were lucky just to get this far.

**Author's Note:**

> This actually started off as a completely different thing than what ended up happening and then i just started like. vomiting words onto the page So Oops? Idk. I hope this isn't too weird or anything. Next chapter has healthy conversations so look forward to that.


End file.
